My mind is a broken record, constantly spinning around getting stuck at the same part. Everyone knows that records can’t be fixed. Scratch that, hardly anyone remembers records anymore. I’ll be explaining to my children what a broken record is someday.
I’d assumed I knew what I wanted to do with the rest of my life since I was kid. Theater was the only place I felt like I belonged and so I was determined to stay. Now, at 30 I don’t even feel like I belong here. Truth is, I don’t care if this show rehearsing onstage is awful. I feel guilty and apathetic at the same time. It’s an internal stress that won’t let me go. It gnaws at me as I sit here and watch the minutes of my life tick by without anything being produced. I’m too embarrassed to look at what’s going on. This isn’t quality and I’m not helping.
What’s keeping me from turning this around? Confidence? I don’t feel that I have the security to barge in and tell everyone they’re doing things wrong. Everyone. I don’t have the magic solution anyway. I can’t be a team of one. I can’t be the little white red headed bossy girl. I don’t have the support. I don’t feel like I belong. I want to see them fail? So I can say I told you so? Self righteousness? I’m too good to be helping them out? None of these reasons absolve me of guilt.
Brief thought: Would I be happier if I let myself go crazy? I’ve been fighting it a long time. Maybe I’m just tired.
No comments:
Post a Comment